


Sweet Disaster

by avoidingavoidance



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, Fuck Buddies to Something More, M/M, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Recreational Drug Use, Semi-Public Sex, Wall Sex, also rather brief, extraordinarily brief daddy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 22:56:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avoidingavoidance/pseuds/avoidingavoidance
Summary: Shiro knows he doesn't deserve the attention, but he can't stop himself from succumbing to Lance's advances every time, even if he has to bite back how much he reallyreallylikes him.





	Sweet Disaster

**Author's Note:**

> pre-kerberos shiro appearance btw because uhhhh i felt like it
> 
> also guess which song has been stuck in my head for like a month and a half lmfao

Shiro has a thousand reasons why he shouldn’t be here.

The week isn’t even over yet, for one. He still has to teach in the morning. It’s late as it is, and only threatening to get later. He probably shouldn’t have smoked that joint, either, but Hunk’s joints have never failed to impress. He most certainly shouldn’t be sitting alone on the couch in a low lit haze, his eyes helplessly locked on the figure dancing in the opposite corner.

Shiro has one really, _really_ good reason to be here, and it looks like trouble in little high-waisted shorts.

There’s music filling the air, and a small crowd of people moving between them, but in the spaces between bodies Shiro has enough room to watch. He knows he’s being watched right back, too. It comes across clear in the flash of white teeth between thin, perfect lips curved in a crooked grin, and in the lingering of dark eyes on his, and in the hypnotic sway of narrow hips in all the right ways.

It’s going to be a long, _long_ night.

As if the lascivious twist to those hips wasn’t enough to have Shiro half hard already, Lance is putting his hands all over himself, petting himself in a way that just makes Shiro want to trace the same paths with his own hands. He’s mussing his clothes, his hair, biting his lips red, and by the time Lance grins at him and crooks his finger invitingly, Shiro’s struggling not to squirm.

Rather than blaze a path right into those lithe arms, though, Shiro just tilts his head and squints in return. People pass between them, proving his unspoken point; they’re far from alone.

Lance gets it, of course. He always does. As always, he throws Shiro a theatrical pout and casts his gaze downward. Even though Shiro knows the gesture is playful, it still grips him every time, leaving his body screaming to move to Lance, to wrap his arms around him, to kiss him in front of everyone in this damn place.

And, as always, Shiro resists.

With a light laugh, Lance twirls away from his corner, not even glancing at Shiro again as he makes a big, cheerful show of going to the bathroom. The second he’s rounded the corner into the hall, Shiro’s off the couch and following right behind, not even bothering to fight with himself about it.

Lance squeaks the same way every time he gets hurried into the bathroom like this. Like it hasn’t happened a thousand times before, like he doesn’t know he has Shiro wrapped this tightly around his finger. Like he has no idea how much he gets to Shiro just by _existing_. 

Shiro doesn’t even let Lance turn the light on before he presses him against the wall, flailing one hand back to lock the bathroom door before he invites himself into Lance’s space. There’s nothing but the electric blue glow of the night light between them, but it’s enough for Shiro to make out the wide, pleased grin on Lance’s face. As if Shiro had any hope of resisting at all.

Before Shiro can move in, Lance shifts himself and spreads his thighs on either side of Shiro’s, tugging the taller man closer by his belt loops. He lifts his hands then, pressing them against the wall above his head, and resumes the sway of his hips from before.

Pressed together like this, Lance’s movements have him rubbing firmly against the bulge of Shiro’s arousal, coaxing low moans out of both of them. The music thuds through the wall behind him, the beat even slower, even heavier than before, and when Lance slows down to keep time, Shiro finds himself helplessly pushing closer. He curves his hands around Lance’s ass and _squeezes_ , trying to keep himself in check, before he gives in and moves his own hips in time.

Shiro uses his grip to pull Lance into a filthy grind, Lance’s stuttering breath panting hot over his lips with each slow, promising thrust.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Shiro rasps, only half joking. His lips brush against Lance’s, each touch too briefly electric.

“What,” Lance laughs back, even though he’s just as flushed and breathless as Shiro. “You’re not having fun?”

“You’re _always_ fun.” Humming roughly, Shiro ducks his head to lay slow, open-mouthed kisses beneath the sharp angle of Lance’s jaw, just below his ear. Lance leans his head aside with a shivering moan, his nails scraping against the wallpaper. 

“G-good thing you don’t actually teach any of my classes,” Lance snorts. Before Shiro can express his dismay about the topic, Lance lets his arms fall around Shiro’s shoulders, digging his fingers encouragingly into Shiro’s hair. “C’mon, big guy,” he whispers against Shiro’s ear, “I know you wanna fuck me.”

Shiro barely muffles his ragged groan against Lance’s pulse. Someone _definitely_ would have heard that, and Shiro’s pretty sure he’d rather die than have to stop putting his hands all over Lance. Lance just laughs softly in his ear, still petting him affectionately. 

It takes some coaxing, but Shiro eventually lets Lance turn around and lean his chest against the wall, rocking his perfect ass back _just_ right into Shiro’s lap. He bites his lip hard and wraps his hands around Lance’s hips, grinding obligingly. As good as it feels, and as pretty as Lance looks with his dark eyelashes fluttering, this isn’t why he turned around.

Ever since the first time this happened, Lance always comes prepared. He has lube and condoms in his left front pocket, and while Shiro’s dipping one hand down to retrieve them, he melts against Lance and teasingly nips at his ear before murmuring, “I’m way too high for how good you look in these tiny shorts...”

Lance laughs at that, light and airy and so, so pretty. “I love how you get when you let loose like this,” he sighs, leaning his head aside for Shiro’s lips as they make their languid way down the line of his neck. Too busy with the way Lance’s skin tastes to reply, Shiro just makes a questioning sound. “’S like you’re gonna eat me up.”

 _That’s_ worth a reply. Shiro drops the lube and condom into his own pocket, then drags his hands up under Lance’s thin shirt, spreading his warm fingers over Lance’s chest, before rumbling, “Maybe I will.”

Breathing a happy, shaky sigh, Lance leans his head back against Shiro’s shoulder and gives a pleased hum, swaying his hips back against Shiro’s cock where it’s straining against his zipper. Shiro groans at the feeling, nipping sharply at Lance’s pulse. 

Not one to be outdone, Shiro slips his hands up until he can gently rub Lance’s pierced nipples between his fingers, admiring how sensitive they are, how stiff they feel. Lance shivers out a low moan at the attention, positively squirming when Shiro tweaks them playfully.

Shiro could easily spend all night just playing with Lance’s nipples, but the way Lance is grinding back against him is growing more and more insistent, and he knows it’s only a matter of time before they both get impatient. He wraps one arm around Lance’s narrow waist and tugs him close, nuzzling behind his ear while his other hand slides down from Lance’s chest, over his stomach, and curves around Lance’s cock where he’s straining against the tight material of his shorts.

The sound Lance makes then, between Shiro palming his arousal and rutting his hips against his ass, is just barely this side of too loud. He always is when they’re like this, and it makes Shiro want to take him home and make him sing for hours. He wants to know how loud Lance can get, how much he can beg for, how Shiro’s name would sound when Lance is screaming it. Right here, though, they can’t get caught, and they both know it. So Lance slaps a hand over his mouth, and he rocks back against Shiro’s lap, and Shiro hates himself for denying them both.

“Take your shirt off,” Shiro murmurs, regretfully letting his hands slide back onto Lance’s hips. He pulls back just enough to let Lance wrestle his flimsy shirt off, his own hands working at the buttons on these damn shorts. Lance doesn’t wear underwear, so when he lets his shorts slide off his foot and leans forward against the wall again, he does so wonderfully, perfectly naked, glancing back over his shoulder with a crooked grin so he can see just how lost Shiro is.

Shiro can’t ever get enough of the feeling of his hands sliding all down Lance’s soft, dark skin. He preens under Shiro’s touch, rolling his hips and arching his back, his tongue wetting his flushed lips, looking so goddamn pretty it already has Shiro desperate for more. 

Before he can do anything else, Shiro hastily unbuttons his shirt and yanks it off, dropping it onto the small pile of Lance’s clothes. It’s one of Lance’s few rules; he doesn’t like being the only one naked. Shiro doesn’t mind either way, but he’s ready to bend over backwards to make Lance comfortable, so he always obeys without being told. As always, it earns him a pleased hum and a slow, firm roll of Lance’s hips, teasing and promising all at once.

He pulls the thin packet of lube out of his pocket and shakily rips it open with his teeth, coating his fingers with the cool liquid before taking half a step back and rubbing them against Lance’s entrance. 

They’ve done this enough times that Shiro knows exactly how to work Lance open, how much he can take, and how much he needs. He knows intimately well the way Lance’s breath stutters and shakes when he feels good, when Shiro’s doing well. Even so, he drinks it in like a man dying of thirst, leaning in to mouth up Lance’s neck with a rumbling moan. 

“H-hurry up, Shiro,” Lance gasps, his voice cracking when Shiro rubs tight little circles against his prostate. “Oh, _fuck_ , ‘s right...”

He can’t tease Lance too much. Not here, not when they need to be quick. But god, Shiro wants to finger Lance until he _cries_ , to make him come shaking with only three fingers buried deep inside him, to feel Lance shivering from overstimulation and still gasping for more.

Instead, he pulls his fingers out with an apologetic kiss to Lance’s pulse, then takes a step back and works his belt open. He pulls the condom out of his pocket before he pushes his pants down to his thighs, and as he’s rolling it onto his cock, Lance hums and watches over his shoulder, licking his lips at the languid, teasing stroke Shiro gives himself. 

Before he can move forward again, it occurs to Shiro that taking Lance like this isn’t nearly enough for him. He wants to watch Lance’s expression fall away into pleasure, wants to breathe his panted breaths, wants to feel Lance’s pounding heart against his own. His hands fall to Lance’s hips again, to coax him into turning around again, and Lance does so with only a raised eyebrow.

“D’you trust me?” Shiro hates asking, because Lance doesn’t really have any reason to say yes, but Lance just smiles at him and rests his soft hand against Shiro’s cheek.

“Obviously.”

His throat catches before he can thank Lance, or before he can explain what he’s doing. Lance’ll catch on soon enough anyway, smart boy that he is. Shiro pulls Lance’s arms over his shoulders again, then bends his knees and curves his hands under Lance’s thighs. With a bright laugh, Lance hops up obligingly and wraps his legs around Shiro’s waist, trusting Shiro entirely to hold him up. 

“You’re a big softie, you know that?” Lance chuckles. He knows better than to expect a response, though, electing instead to lean down and brush his lips gently against Shiro’s.

Shiro surges into the kiss, unable to keep himself from desperately seeking Lance’s affection. Lance laughs again, the sound sweet against Shiro’s lips, before he tilts his head and presses back into him in return. He lets Shiro fuck his tongue into Lance’s mouth, sucking his lips between his own and nibbling on them, gasping between kisses. 

As badly as Shiro had wanted this, this closeness, he hasn’t forgotten where they were going. He presses Lance back against the wall and uses his weight to help support him, then drops one hand down to guide himself into Lance. Lance shivers and whimpers as Shiro slowly fills him up, as that firm grip moves under his ass again, lowering him nice and easy until Shiro’s buried deep inside him, groaning shakily at the tight, _tight_ heat wrapped around him. 

“C’mon, Shiro,” Lance pleads quietly, his ankles crossing behind Shiro, hands gripping him tighter. “I-I need you to move, c’mon...”

 _God_ , how Shiro wants to succumb. He knows better, though. He grits his teeth and nudges his nose against Lance’s, whispering, “Just be patient.”

“You’re a goddamn _tease_ ,” Lance whines. He waits, though, seeking out more of Shiro’s breathless kisses as he adjusts to the feeling. Shiro’s not exactly small, after all, and he’s more than used to the caution Shiro shows when they’re together like this, impatient as he is for more.

When Shiro finally does move, it’s slow and gentle, leaning back to watch Lance’s expression as he pulls out slightly, then thrusts up into him again, his hands supporting Lance perfectly. His strength alone would be enough to hold Lance up, but Lance wraps his legs tighter around Shiro anyway, his head falling back against the wall with a dull _thunk_. 

“ _Fuck_ , Shiro,” he gasps, “More, more, c’mon...” 

Shiro groans softly and adjusts his grip, then obeys.

The music is still pounding slow and heavy through the wall, so Shiro mimics Lance’s earlier teasing and moves with the beat, thrusting deep, steady, letting himself bottom out in Lance every time. If he’s still being a tease, Lance doesn’t seem to mind; he’s too busy carding his fingers through Shiro’s already mussed hair, tugging and pulling when Shiro hits him just right, licking his lips and rocking in perfect rhythm with him. 

It’s hypnotic, just like everything else about Lance. He moves like water, ebbing and flowing in soothing tides, matching Shiro’s speed in everything they do, and then slipping away between his fingers every time.

Shiro’s so fucked.

A particularly good thrust has Lance arching and shivering, his skin sliding just a little in Shiro’s grip. He moves with him though, unwilling to let him fall, not when Lance is trusting him to hold him steady. Bracing his knees against the wall, Shiro lifts Lance more and thrusts up into him at more of an angle, and apparently the shift is working _wonders_ for Lance.

Melting against the wall and breathing a low, gasping moan, Lance lets his eyes flutter open, his own hazy gaze locking on Shiro’s. He _grins_ , so pretty in the low light, and murmurs, “Feels _so_ good, Shiro.”

All Shiro can really do is groan in return, biting his lip and picking up the pace. He thrusts harder, trying not to lose himself in how fucking incredible Lance feels squeezing around his cock like this.

Whenever they’re alone like this, whenever Shiro’s doing something Lance particularly likes, he has no problem demanding more, and it seems tonight is no different. Lance licks his lips and gasps when Shiro bucks up into him with a bitten-back moan, grinding up hard, and before Shiro can even get himself together again, Lance is fisting his hand in Shiro’s hair and _pulling_ , leaning in to drag his teeth up the line of Shiro’s throat. Shiro’s hips jolt again, a shaky whimper falling from his lips, before Lance licks up to his ear and whispers, “ _Harder_ , c’mon, Shiro...”

Shiro swallows heavily, then adjusts his grip again, using his weight to press Lance harder against the wall, before he picks up his pace again. He snaps his hips up harder, Lance’s name falling from his lips, his whole body trembling with how _good_ it feels. Lance seems to agree, based on the ragged, filthy moan he breathes against Shiro’s ear, his fingers briefly releasing dark hair only to fist in it again more firmly. 

He sinks his teeth into Shiro’s pulse and muffles his moans there, and as good as it feels, as sensitive as Shiro’s neck is, he would give just about anything to hear those moans filter into the heavy air between them. 

They can’t get caught here, though. Not like this, not when they’re this close.

So Shiro deals with it.

Lance is panting against his throat now, his hips twitching and rocking the way he does when he’s getting close, his pretty cock arching hard against Shiro’s stomach, leaving a wet smear of precome across his skin. Knowing that Lance is this worked up just from Shiro’s cock drives him more than a little crazy, if he’s honest with himself; he needs to get Lance there, to hear the sweet sounds he makes when he comes, to feel Lance’s short nails dragging red lines across his skin. 

He lets his hands grip Lance tighter to him, his grip almost punishing, and just like everything else that makes Shiro see stars, Lance seems to love it just as much. His back arches, and a short whine drips from his lips before he bites them to hold it in, before he throws his head back again, pleasure written all over his gorgeous face as he shakes in Shiro’s arms. 

“Sh-Shiro, Shiro, _please_ ,” Lance gasps, so close Shiro can almost taste it, so he growls low in his throat and fucks him _harder_ , pounding his hips into him, giving Lance exactly what he needs. 

Lance gives a soft, stuttering cry and tenses against him, around him, shaking hard and clawing at Shiro’s shoulder, holding him tight. His other hand flies down to wrap around his cock just as he spills hot stripes up Shiro’s chest, eyes squeezed closed, and Shiro watches him stroke himself through it almost helplessly. He doesn’t stop moving, though, knowing how much Lance loves it when he fucks him through his orgasm.

When Lance comes down, relief leaving him slumped against the wall, his thighs shaking wildly, he sighs contently, then opens his eyes and stares up at Shiro with a flushed, _wicked_ grin.

Shiro’s known he’s fucked for a while now, but he always manages to forget one of the biggest reasons he’s so fucked.

Lance _loves_ pushing Shiro’s buttons, and he’s damn good at it.

So when Lance moves his hand from Shiro’s shoulder to fist in his hair again, pulling it roughly, Shiro is firmly reminded who’s in charge here, and it’s not him.

“C’mon, Shiro,” Lance all but _purrs_ , leaning in to drag his tongue over Shiro’s bitten lips, his teeth catching sensitive skin and tugging. Shiro shivers and lets Lance tug his head back, lets Lance coax him back into his rough rhythm from before, having eased off as Lance came down. Lance is still squeezing tight around him, hot and so, _so_ good.

“L-Lance—”

Lance’s sharp, crooked grin widens, his face flushed dark. “Come on, daddy, come for me, you know I want you to.”

Just like that, Shiro loses it. 

He squeezes his eyes shut and whines Lance’s name, probably too loud and too needy, but he can’t really hear himself over the ringing in his ears. His hips buck up unevenly into Lance, grinding himself deep as he comes _hard_ , and he knows he’s being too loud when Lance lets go of his hair and lets him bury his face in the crook of his neck. Shiro bites down and buries his moans against dark skin, rolling his hips up helplessly until he can’t take it anymore.

When his brain comes back online, he’s dragging hot, open-mouthed kisses up Lance’s throat, leaning hard into him and trembling, and Lance is just chuckling and petting his hair affectionately, letting Shiro cling to him. He gives Shiro another few seconds of this, humming warmly against his ear, before he sighs, “Alright, big guy, put me down before you drop me.”

“Not gonna drop you,” Shiro grumbles, his voice rough. “Wouldn’t ever...”

Lance swallows at that, then laughs again, pointedly untangling his legs from around Shiro’s waist and reaching toward the floor. As much as he wants to keep holding Lance, Shiro lets him go, gently pulling out of him before setting him on his feet.

This is the part Shiro never really likes. They clean up awkwardly, Shiro pulling the condom off and disposing of it in the most covert way he can, Lance cleaning his come off himself and Shiro, and then they stand on opposite sides of the small, dark bathroom and get dressed again.

This is the part that makes Shiro hate himself the most.

Lance finishes putting his clothes back on before Shiro can even make his shaky hands button half his wrinkled shirt back up, fixes his hair in the mirror, before turning to Shiro with a radiant smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“See you next week, big guy,” he chirps, reaching up to tug on Shiro’s forelock. 

He turns to leave the bathroom, hand on the doorknob, and for some reason Shiro can’t bring himself to let go just yet. He reaches out and catches Lance’s wrist in his hand, but when Lance blinks back at him, he realizes he doesn’t actually have a good reason to stop Lance from leaving.

“I, um,” he says stupidly.

Lance just raises his eyebrows, but god bless him, he waits for Shiro to scramble for an excuse.

“H-how did you know I’d... like that?” Shiro finally sputters, immediately wanting to kick himself for it. Lance just flushes dark, though, and laughs awkwardly as he scrubs his hand over the nape of his neck.

“Well, you’ve liked everything else I’ve been into so far,” he mumbles, not looking Shiro in the eyes. “Thought maybe I’d get lucky again.”

Shiro bites his lip and flushes too. “Seems so.”

“Seems so, huh,” Lance laughs. Shiro’s still holding onto his wrist, but Lance is just smiling shyly at him, and that face isn’t something Shiro’s ever been able to resist.

He moves close again, and when Lance doesn’t frown or back away from him, Shiro leans in and brushes their lips together. The kiss is gentle and hesitant this time, rather than Shiro desperately drinking in everything Lance gives him. Lance hums against his lips, one hand coming up to Shiro’s cheek, his soft thumb stroking across flushed skin. 

Lance has always been so much kinder than Shiro deserves.

When Lance pulls away again, licking his lips thoughtfully, Shiro feels his already shaky reservations crumbling.

“Can I buy you coffee sometime?” he whispers, trying his best to ignore the thrill of terror that runs up his spine. “Somewhere... somewhere in public?”

Lance stares up at him, his eyes wide, lips parted in surprise. That look makes Shiro want to kick himself too, because Lance had obviously never expected this, no matter how much he teases Shiro in public, always asking him to come closer and never hating him when he doesn’t. He deserves so much better than Shiro, and Shiro wouldn’t even be upset with him if Lance told him to go fuck himself. He’s been selfish, so goddamn selfish with Lance’s affections, all because he’s an anxious mess, too paranoid to give Lance the attention he deserves—

“I’d like that,” Lance says, his voice soft and still surprised, but enough to cut through the guilt spiral Shiro had been headed down. Shiro blinks at him in return, watching a wide, pretty grin spread over Lance’s face. “I’d really like that, Shiro.” 

Shiro huffs a relieved sigh, tension visibly leaving his body, which has Lance all but cackling. He’s so good at finding humor in everything, even Shiro having his head crammed up his ass.

“I know you can’t get enough of all _this_ ,” Lance snickers, gesturing widely at himself. “But damn.” Before he can tease Shiro too much, as much as he deserves it, Shiro groans his name exasperatedly and leans his head on Lance’s shoulder. He lets his hand slide away from Lance’s wrist, down to his hand, and Lance is still chuckling at his expense even as he laces their fingers together.

Shiro knows he’s a disaster, but Lance is still willing to put up with him at length, and he figures that has to count for something.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a [tumblr](http://avoidingavoidance.tumblr.com) and a [twittr](http://twitter.com/gaarbage)


End file.
